Dudes in Distress
by WhiteFerrets
Summary: Sam wants to write a comic book with Blaine and it turns out to be one of the greatest ideas he's ever had. Post-4x07.


**A/N: Written for day one of A Very Blam Christmas (Superheroes).**

**Rating: PG  
****Warning: N/A  
****Word Count: 2200  
Characters: Sam Evans/Blaine Anderson.  
**

* * *

The idea comes to Sam the day after he and Blaine save the Nationals trophy from the Warblers, and he has to say, it's one of the greatest ideas he's ever had — which maybe isn't saying much, he thinks, since most of his ideas end up being total suckers. But he's_ really_ confident about this one.

He stays up most of the night filling an entire sketchbook with doodles and drawings, various sketches and designs, scrawling notes in the margins and around the figures. He passes out at three in the morning, slumped over his artwork, and has to chug three cups of coffee when he wakes up before he feels human enough to go to school.

The first place he goes when he walks through the school doors is Blaine's locker and, sure enough, Blaine is there, getting his books out for class. Sketchbook under his arm, he rushes up to him as fast as he can.

"Blaine! Hey, hey Blaine!"

"Oh hey, Sam!"

He watches the way Blaine's face lights up as he looks over his shoulder and sees Sam by his side, the way he's so quick to close his locker and the way his arms flex as he hugs his textbook to his chest and turns to face his friend.

"I have to show you something," Sam says eagerly.

He grabs Blaine's hand and tugs him down the hall, ignoring his surprised squeak of protest, and leads him into an empty classroom. He guides him towards the nearest desk and even pulls the chair out for him, gesturing to it wildly.

"Sit."

"Sam, what is this about?" Blaine asks warily, even as he sits down and lets his bag drop to the floor.

Sam, in answer, stands on the opposite side of the desk and drops the sketchbook down in front of Blaine. Blaine looks down at the book before back up at Sam for a moment, but after giving Blaine an eager expression, he finally looks back down and opens it up.

It's mostly just reference sketches on the first page, but there's no mistaking the fact that it's Nightbird and Blond Chameleon. Blaine quirks an eyebrow, leaning in closer as he turns a page, taking in the different images of their superhero personae on the paper.

"Sam, what is this? Is this us?"

Sam grabs a chair from the desk in front and swings it closer to Blaine's desk, straddling it easily and resting his forearms on the back of the seat.

"Okay, bear with me. You like to write, right? Like, come up with stories and stuff?"

"… Yes," Blaine says slowly, glancing up at Sam.

"Well, I can draw. I mean, I've never really showed anyone before, but I think I'm alright at it."

"These- yeah. These are really good," Blaine promises, nodding his head, and Sam grins at the praise.

"Awesome. And we're both in agreement that Nightbird and Blond Chameleon totally kick ass together, right?"

"Right," Blaine says, almost hesitantly, but Sam knows it's just because he's waiting and not because he disagrees.

"So, I was thinking, we should totally write comic books about them, man. I have a million ideas already, I was up all night. Like, hold on, look-"

He reaches out and flips a couple of pages, where he's drawn a rough storyboard of a fight scene, in which Blond Chameleon saves Nightbird from an evil villain that looks conveniently like Coach Sue.

There's a long silence while Blaine's eyes scan the page, and Sam holds in breath in anticipation. "Well?"

"… You know I only called Nightbird _'Nightbird'_ because I couldn't call him Nightwing, right?" Blaine asks, looking up at Sam with a small frown. "There's no way we wouldn't get sued if we tried to like, get a Nightbird comic published or something."

"So we'll adapt him, dude, make him our own. And we can do the same with Blond Chameleon."

Blaine bites his lip and glances back at Sam's sketchbook, leafing through a few more pages before sighing and nodding his head.

"I'm in."

"For real?" Sam asks with a grin, and Blaine instantly grins back, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah, for real. You wanna come to my place after school?"

Sam feels his stomach twist into pleasant knots and his heart swells in his chest, and he replies with a simple, "I'd love to." before picking up his sketchbook and heading for class.

_Score._

—

The comic book idea is going a lot better than Sam could've hoped. They've only been at Blaine's place for three hours, but already, Blaine's as excited about the comic book as Sam is. And it turns out he's even more of a genius than Sam realised, too. They've been throwing ideas back and forth ever since they walked through the door, Sam sketching furiously and Blaine scribbling notes down on pieces of paper, and now they're in his bedroom, sprawled out on their stomachs across the floor and still filling page after page with ideas.

"Dude, you're so not doing your abs justice. Chameleon doesn't look ripped at all in that picture."

"He's wearing a suit!" Sam protests, frowning down at his latest sketch of his superhero. "You can't see abs when you're wearing a suit!"

"Why not give him a real superhero costume?"

"He's meant to blend in, duh. That's what a chameleon does."

"So? He's a superhero! We could give him, like, the power to manipulate people's minds so they perceive him falsely and see him as something as he's not. So he could like, make people think he's George Clooney or, I don't know, a refrigerator or something."

Sam's face lights up and he quickly begins to draw, this time putting Blond Chameleon in a costume similar to Nightbird's.

"And his weakness could be mirrors!" he adds excitedly, biting his lip as he makes a note of it next to his sketches. "You can see the real dude in his reflection even when he's manipulating you."

"Excellent," Blaine gushes, quickly writing down the idea at the bottom of his current page before flipping it over to write on the other side. "Nightbird should carry something reflective on him so Blond Chameleon's never able to fool him."

Sam hums in thought, tapping the end of his pencil against his mouth. "Like what?"

"I don't know, like, something that could double as a weapon? Like a really shiny dagger or something?"

"The bad guys would just see his reflection in the dagger, though, wouldn't they? Like, all the time."

Blaine frowns. "Fuck it, you're totally right. Scrap that idea."

They begin to brainstorm, biting on the ends of their pens, and eventually Sam rolls onto his back and kicks his feet up in the air, letting them rest on the foot of Blaine's bed.

Blaine's busy writing something and they lapse into silence, until Sam throws his arms into the air, puts on his best Tom Kenny voice, and says,_ "Using their ultra-super-powers, superbros Nightbird and Blond Chameleon have dedicated their lives to saving dudes in distress and fighting the forces. Of. Evil!"_

He begins to hum the _Powerpuff Girls_ theme, ignoring Blaine as he buries his head in his hands and laughs.

"Oh my god. Dudes in distress? Really?"

Sam grins and raises his eyebrows playfully, tilting his head back to look at Blaine upside down. "What, you'd rather be saving damsels?"

"Just because I'm gay doesn't mean Nightbird has to be."

"Fine then. If Nightbird is straight, then Blond Chameleon's gonna be the next Captain Jack. Into girls and guys and everything in between." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "That's Harkness, not Sparrow, for the record. Although I totally wouldn't be surprised if Sparrow swung both ways."

"Is this your way of coming out to me, Blond Chameleon?" Blaine teases, shaking his head with a playful smile.

Sam grins sheepishly, because _duh_.

"… Wait, seriously?"

"Kinda, yeah," he replies, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly, and Blaine gives him a look.

"Huh. How come you've never told me that before?"

"I haven't really told anyone. I kinda figured it's not really anyone's business, you know? I'm not like, in the closet or anything. I just don't think it's important."

Blaine smiles. "More people should think like you do."

Sam smiles back and licks his lips, finding himself tempted to kiss the boy in front of him, but instead he simply rolls back onto his stomach and crosses his ankles in the air, looking down at his drawings.

"So, back to dudes in distress."

—

They work until well past midnight, only pausing once to eat dinner. Blaine's lost his sweater vest and untucked his shirt, his bowtie hanging untied around his neck, and Sam took his jeans off hours ago, because "jeans can be fucking uncomfortable when you're trying to chill, dude." The floor is littered with papers and the ideas in their heads are plentiful, enough that they have no intentions of stopping even when the clock strikes one.

As Blaine begins to ramble excitedly about an idea that just sprung to him, Sam finds himself tuning out, resting his chin in his hand and losing himself in his thoughts as he stares over at Blaine.

He loves seeing Blaine like this, so happy and bubbling with excitement, especially after watching him be so lifeless for such a long time. He loves knowing that he's the reason Blaine is like this, that Blaine's so in love with his idea that it's enough to bring him back to life.

He loves Blaine.

The realisation should be scary, something that causes him to question his friendship and run away into hiding, but it's not like that at all. It's almost comfortable, a warm and pleasant feeling in his chest that he can't bring himself to fear or shy away from.

Before he can think twice, he leans forward, pressing his lips against Blaine's and silencing him mid-sentence. He hears Blaine gasp against his lips and feels him go still for a moment, but then he's pushing into the kiss and grasping at Sam's arm, and Sam has to stop himself from grinning.

When he pulls back, Blaine stares at him, and Sam gives him a sheepish smile in response. Blaine licks his lips slowly and opens his mouth to say something, but it seems to take him a moment before he works out what to say.

"So you like the idea, then." He sounds breathless, exhilarated.

"I like you," Sam replies simply, feeling confident, and he can't help but grin when he notices the blush tinting Blaine's cheeks.

He leans in and kisses him again, sliding a hand up to cup the back of his neck and toy with the curls that have come loose from his gel. Blaine sighs blissfully against Sam's lips and Sam finds himself pulling Blaine closer, until they're both moving up onto their knees and Blaine has his arms wrapped around Sam's middle, his hands grasping at the back of his shirt.

"Can we move this to the bed?" Blaine asks in a whisper, and that's totally not where Sam saw this going but he's hardly going to complain.

"Sure. Yeah, totally. Of course."

He pulls Blaine up to his feet and Blaine gives him a shy smile, taking his hand and guiding him over to the bed. He drops down onto the mattress, propping himself up on his elbows, and Sam follows his lead, crawling on top of him and ducking his head to kiss him again.

Blaine's lips are soft but sure against his, his hands moving from his chest to the back to his neck, before he finally settles on draping his arms loosely around Sam's shoulders. In response, Sam gets his knees between Blaine's thighs and settles down on top of him, and there's no mistaking the way Blaine's breath hitches.

_"Sam," _he breathes, trying to pull Sam closer, almost making him shiver with the intimacy of it all.

"We're doing this totally backwards," Sam laughs, and when Blaine makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat, Sam laughs again. "Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?"

He can feel the corners of Blaine's lips curve up into a smile against his own.

"Are you sure you won't be too busy saving guys in distress, Chameleon?"

"_Dudes_ in distress, oh my god, don't ruin my alliteration," Sam whines, swatting Blaine's thigh as he pulls back from the kiss and gives Blaine an unimpressed look.

"Sorry," Blaine says, not sounding very sorry at all.

"You officially just ruined the moment, Blaine Anderson. The moment is officially dead."

"Oh, shut up," he huffs, and then he's pulling Sam down to kiss him again.

Part of Sam thinks he should at least be trying to keep the pretenses up for a while but he can't bring himself to complain, not when kissing Blaine feels as good as it does.

"So, about dinner," Blaine murmurs between kisses. "I hope Chameleon is cool with slacking off every once in a while."

"Mm? Why's that?"

"Because the dudes in distress are just gonna have to wait."

Sam pulls back from the kisses then, looking down at Blaine and searching his face for any hint of a joke.

"… Is that a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes," Blaine laughs, reeling Sam in for another kiss.

If Sam had any doubts about the comic book before, he definitely has none now; it really is the greatest idea he's ever had.

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_**FIN.**_  
**Feedback is appreciated.**


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